


Misty Night

by Phinmeister



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 15:47:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16621835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phinmeister/pseuds/Phinmeister
Summary: I was rummaging through a digital pile of old stories I've written when I came across this short thing from my 2016 creative writing class, and I thought it was cool enough to share. There's no real point to it, just a writing exercise, but I like it somehow.





	Misty Night

The trees whistled as she walked silently down the hill, braving the thick grey fog and cool feeling of mist upon her cheeks. The coldness of fall had finally reached the town, and she was unprepared; the last few days had been surprisingly warm as if of a continuation of summer, and she had worn shorts that day, not expecting the chilliness. But that was what awaited her on that day, and she had no choice but to wander on through it all with a fierce mindset as her tool.

The aftertaste of lemon tea lingered in her mouth and she continued on her journey. Leaves and residue from the redwood trees crinkled under her shoes as she stepped and stepped forward, and she paid them no mind. They were simply a decoration for the ground, nothing worth saving or even noting.

She could hear the laughter of teenage boys as she meandered around a small, abandoned parking lot. The boys had most likely just been ingesting some sort of substance, as the sounds that emanated from their mouths, whether laughter or speech, were far too loud for this time of night. They disrupted the silence that would otherwise pervade the air with a palpable effect. She paid them no mind either; they could do what they wanted with their free time. She was on an internal mission, and they were not a part of it.

A fresh smell of marijuana reached her nostrils, and she crinkled her nose in disgust. Definitely from the teenage boys. She walked forward still more and it became less faint, but the smell had left her stomach feeling the slightest bit queasy.

Funny to think that the air was so sharp, a product of the numerous trees that surrounded her and everyone else, but could be disrupted by something so dirty, so easily. She had to force herself to pay that no mind, either. Nothing here was ever important, and certainly, most definitely, nothing was ever permanent.

She stuffed her hands into her coat pockets and gave a violent shiver. She could feel tension arising from her body's reaction to the cold, a circumventing contraction. She wished more than anything that she could cuddle under the warmth of a heavy blanket, but she had other tasks to complete before that could become a reality; a shame the weather had picked today of all days to drop in temperature.

At last, she found the spot at which she was to meet her, the other woman. She waited one minute, and then another, and the minutes felt like hours at least, days at most. She had nothing with which to distract herself, and the pitch black of the night coupled with the permeating fog took away her vision of what could be around her, dangerous or not. She had this spot, and this spot only, and the rest of the world was a grey unknown.

Another minute passed, and she began to question herself, wondering if perhaps she had gotten something wrong - the day, the time, the place. Perhaps the other woman had given up, put off by the cold and the foggy night and the lack of support around the area. The night was always dangerous, but tonight it seemed even more so.

Just when she was about to walk away and give that fantasy of warming herself up with a thick blanket a real chance, she appeared.

"Hello," she said, as if there were nothing amiss in the world.

"Maria - hello, hi. I was starting to wonder if this was still going to happen." She felt awkward now, and a little guilty - she had doubted her, had almost shown that she held no trust in her heart for her. It felt like a truly despicable notion.

"Of course." Her voice was lilting, and soft like classical music. She didn't seem to think anything had gone wrong, which was appreciated. "Do you have it?"

She did have it, in her pocket. The metallic surface was warm now, heated by her hands as they fidgeted with the object over and over. She withdrew it from her pocket and handed it to her, her hand slightly shaking, due to the cold or nerves it was hard to tell.

Maria took the object and held it up to the light of the street lamp behind her: a locket on a chain. Simple, yes, but only the two of them knew how valuable it was.

"Are you going to be able to take it to Eleanor safely?" It was only practical to ask.

"Of course." That seemed to be her phrase of the day, but this iteration seemed a tad more sharp in tone. "She'll be happy."

"I certainly hope so." That came out sharp as well, but it was unintended, and thus she gave a slight wince as the words escaped from her mouth. Maria looked at her, her dark eyes seeming darker by the strange, yellowish light illuminating them.

"Do I get anything from it?" she said then, changing the conversation and saving it from further awkwardness, or at least she hoped. It seems those hopes were futile, though, as Maria's eyes crinkled in unspoken harsh laughter.

"You're not getting anything."

"Oh." She had feared this, but at least it wasn't a total surprise.

"Unless you'd take non monetary forms of payment."

That stumped her. "Huh?"

Without further words, Maria stepped forward and pressed their lips together; her lips were as soft as her hair, with a taste of a hint of beeswax lip gloss.

They drew apart a moment later, and parted.

**Author's Note:**

> My original author's note was: "I don't know what that was exactly. A thousand word long lesbian love story with no point. Sounds like my life." Nothing's changed.


End file.
